


The Temptress

by rocknrolljunkie989



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Lady Loki, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 10:31:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocknrolljunkie989/pseuds/rocknrolljunkie989
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is visited by a mysterious midnight visitor, one who consumes his every waking moment</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Rev 22:20 by Puscifer.

Thor rolls over to face the window. It's still dark, but he has become enough accustomed to the gradual lightening of the sky during his sleepless nights to know that it is an early hour of the morning.

His mind is plagued with thoughts of _her_. Just exactly who _she_ is, however, is a mystery to him.

He calls her the Temptress. She refuses to tell him her name, and so he has given her some definitive title. And it is a fitting one, surely.

The first time she came to him, Thor had been so drunk on mead that his head swam, and he hadn't been sure if the beautiful woman entering his chambers was real or a cruel figment of his drunken imagination.

She had been real, though. Painfully so. She had taken Thor in her arms, pressed him to her bosom, and made him feel _wonderfu_.

Her appearances to him come and go, happening often but with no identifiable pattern. It seems she enjoys Thor's suffering, enjoys his sleepless nights of yearning.

He can't remember what exactly transpired on the second time she came to him. He's lost count. Her appearances have been gracing him for little over half a year, but he feels as though this maiden has been visiting him like a specter in the night for ages. Thor doesn't want to think about what things had been like before her visits.

He wonders what it is about her that keeps him so on edge. She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Hair blacker than the midnight sky cascades down her back in loose, effortless curls. Her coy eyes glitter the color of emeralds but are far more spectacular. And her body... the swell of her breasts, her curving hips, her pale skin, and her all-around perfect figure drives Thor to the edge of madness each time he so much as thinks about it.

And yet he doesn't know who she is. Each time he asks, the Temptress silences him with a purred whisper and a graceful finger placed over his lips. He has no idea how she finds her way into his chambers and how she makes it past the guards. He has given up asking, only knowing that she sees him, and knowing that that is enough to please him.

She has an aura about her, something almost magical, that turns all of Thor's thoughts to her. He would do anything in his power to once more take his place between her thighs. [i]Anything.[/i]

When she takes her leave of him, the first days after are a walking nightmare for Thor. His head is a muddled mess, and it becomes obvious to everyone he's got something weighing on his mind. His mother presses her hand to the back of his head to check his temperature, Loki shoots him calculating glances from across the dinner table, and his friends take advantage of his lack of attention while sparring.

But alas, it is worth it for Thor. Worth every single second.

On this restless night, ever so quietly, Thor can hear the door open. He's turned over in a moment.

And there she is. His mysterious seductress of the night stands in the doorway. She looks as radiant as ever, wrapped in her fur cloak with her dark hair spilling so perfectly over her shoulders. She steps inside and closes the door.

"My lady," Thor murmurs as he stands from the bed. He offers her a bow and then his hand. "I am pleased you join me again."

She smiles at him and drops her cloak to the floor. Beneath it, she wears nothing, and Thor can feel the heat in his body rise as she steps toward him. Watching her approach him with such delicate, gliding steps is something that never fails to get him interested.

If there is one thing Thor likes about her personality, it's her insistence on getting straight to the point. She wraps her arms around his body and presses their lips together. Hers are soft, and once he tastes her, it's like he can't get enough. It becomes more and more difficult to contain himself with each swirl of her tongue.

He beds her without delay, not wanting to be too hasty, as he'd like to savor the moment, but wanting to get to that moment quickly.

Thor relishes the way she feels beneath him. He is weak in the hands of the fair maiden below him, completely unable to conduct himself like usual. He caresses her skin with care and presses his mouth to hers, wanting to have her sweet taste on his tongue until morning. And she is compliant, yet somehow completely in control of him.

"My temptress, I have nearly gone mad with desire for you," he tells her, and she runs her long fingers through his hair, as if to let him know that she understands and the sentiment is reciprocated.

He trails his kisses downward, to her breasts. Thor's hands travel across her milky, pale skin, and by the Norns, he is overwhelmed by her extreme beauty. It is just the beginning of their usual process. He makes love to her soon after, though he'd like to stay and relish the moment for all eternity. Their bodies become one with the ritual of skin-on-skin, sweat, and shared noises of pleasure.

But before he comes, when he announces that he's close, when he can feel the familiar pressure build at the base of his spine, she pushes him below her and forces their movements to cease. She perches atop Thor with no explanation and stares into his eyes. For a few long moments, he's captivated by the mesmerizing depth he sees there.

"I mean no disrespect," he gasps, breathless, still all too formal and polite, even in the heat of the moment. "But I cannot take much more of this."

Still, she doesn't move. She trails a silent finger down his chest, letting him know that she's looking for more. Another moment passes, and they cannot take it anymore.

He groans, finally; it is nearly impossible to read her thoughts and find what she's looking for. His head thrown back into the pillow, Thor begs, "Mistress, _please_ -"

She presses a kiss to his mouth and allows him to take her once again.

When they finish, she rolls off of him as he breathes heavily with exertion and bliss. She stands and, in her usual fashion, begins to leave. However, Thor reaches out and snatches her hand. She looks down at him, obviously startled. There is a moment, so brief that Thor thinks he could have imagined it, where she struggles to smooth the shock out of the soft planes of her face.

"Thank you, my maiden," he pants. A smile curls onto her lips, and he lets her hand drop to her side. In one fluid motion, she bends and pulls on her cloak before quietly departing from his chambers.

And so it goes.

Thor stares at his ceiling, feeling thoroughly drained. It's like he has been stripped of his soul. his life. His chest is empty. The only thing that fills him is a lingering yearning in the back of his mind.

He is pleased, of course, having been waiting for the Temptress for weeks. But he will still wait for her, time and time again.

__________

Loki releases his magic upon exiting Thor's bedroom. It takes him a breathless minute to regain his composure. Holding a flawless transformation for so long with such a distraction is not a simple task, and even as skilled as he has become at it, it takes a lot out of him. And of course, there is the matter of the little obsession spell he has cast sapping away at his attention and magic - a little thing, really, not warranting the deep desire his brother harbors; Thor has taken care of most of that himself, the lovable fool.

Making sure no one is around, Loki retreats to his chambers.

It is his greatest trick yet, if he can call it that. A trick usually has a reveal, where he can relish the reactions of those around him. But he cannot - _will_ not - even consider bringing this to the forefront of anyone's attention.

He wonders how his brother hasn't found him out yet, though. Does Thor not recognize the particular magical aura, one that is distinctly Loki's, emanating off his beloved Temptress? Does he not notice that the woman shares Loki's eyes (damned things, eyes are, so hard to change without making them look contrived) and that their hair is just the same shade? Even Loki's noises in bed are eerily similar to that of the Temptress', though he has no reason to think Thor would know of that.

He opens the door to his chambers. It has been another successful night for him. Another night of getting what he wants. He has proved himself to be the smarter of the two once more, at least to himself, and the both of them have benefited from his actions.

Loki smirks to himself as he drops his cloak. He will ponder the matter no further this night. Instead, he will celebrate another personal victory won. He finds it is well deserved.


	2. Two

Loki hesitates before the doors to his brother's chambers. He looks down at his female glamour once more, making sure that it is up to his standards and finds nothing wrong. Still, there is an unsettled feeling in his stomach as he enters the room quietly.

Thor is waiting for him, as is customary. Upon seeing his mistress of the night enter the room, he shoots up in his bed. Loki smirks to himself at the sight of his unknowing brother and saunters forward.

He says nothing, merely holds out his hand for his lady to take hold of. Pure, concentrated joy lights up his face, as it does every time he is greeted in the night.

His mistress saunters forward, nearly straddling his waist, before she props one foot up on the mattress of the bed. Thor is trapped between her legs, and he's eying her wantonly, looking like he was brought before a goddess.

Thor falls to his knees before her as if to perpetuate their role as deity and devoted disciple. He transfers her foot from the bed to his shoulder. She cocks her head to the side, as if questioning his motives.

"One day I wish to take you as my queen," he whispers. He never breaks their eye contact, even when he takes her hand in his. "Will you permit that?"

She laughs, and the sound is the most beautiful thing Thor thinks he has ever heard. He nearly melts beneath her touch when she runs a hand through his hair and leans before him to purr (which is a very risky thing for Loki to do, as voices - just like eyes - are nearly impossible to adopt fluently and with continuity), "Foolish boy," with the most heavenly of smiles upon her rouged lips.

Thor places a hand on her cheek and pulls her down for a delicate kiss. It deepens quickly, and the very anticipation has the man murmuring a steady mantra, "My lady, my queen, my mistress, my love."

His kisses move from her cheek to the hand he holds in his own. He treats her like a delicate flower or a rare treasure made of thin glass. But most of all, he acts as though she is a thousand leagues above him. He is naught but a peasant when she stands before him, and he is willing to act as such.

"Speak your commands of me, my temptress, and they shall be fulfilled," Thor whispers to her as he trails one calloused hand up her smooth calf. His eyes glimmer with a contentment that is never there unless his lady stands before him. "And if you will not speak, then by the gods, show me what you wish me to do and I shall do it."

He kneels before her and lowers his head as if he is unworthy of her company. But his beloved mistress of the night offers him nothing but the kindest of smiles as she pulls him to his feet. Thor wraps his arms around her, and she is small in comparison to the muscular planes of his body. Yet he treats her as if she's larger than life.

The two engage in a deep, passionate kiss. As their tongues battle, Loki's female form easily taking control, the god himself feels light-headed with joy. So many sensations are bombarding him. Never before has Thor taken his worship of his mistress so seriously, and it feeds Loki's sorely wounded ego. He wants to be his brother's equal, but he has no qualms about taking this as a substitute.

He relishes the feel of Thor's hair between his fingers, of the taste that will linger in Loki's mouth long after he switches from his female form to his male form when he departs.

It hits him then, and it hits him hard.

What he feels for Thor is more than just a contemptuous wish to get back at the man for the wrongs he's committed against his younger brother while gaining a bit of pleasure out of the deal himself. No, he desires Thor both physically and emotionally, just as the poor fool desires his darling Temptress.

Perhaps Loki has always know this. He is one for facts but will ignore the blatant truth when what he desires is unattainable. He will adamantly and unconsciously strive for his goal, however, in whatever way possible (such are the reasons he was bestowed the title of God of Mischief).

These things bombard him at once: the use of magic, the feelings for his brother, the feel of a pair of lips working against his own, the worship and praise he never receives in his male form... it would be an understatement to say he is overwhelmed. And when Thor places a hand at the small of his female form's back and grinds their bodies together, he squeezes his eyes shut, throws his head back, and doesn't even think to contain the guttural moan that escapes his lips.

And this is not the wanton cries of Thor's mistress. These are _his_ cries. _Loki's_ cries. And they are far too masculine to be from a woman.

Loki feels Thor go tense against his body and his eyes fly open. The man's jaw is gaping wide with shock written all over his face.

"Brother, I... what are you doing here?!" he demands as he separates himself from Loki. Thor nearly stumbles over the sheets that are still twisted around his legs and falls heavily onto his bed. "I do not understand, brother, what is the meaning of this? Where is-?"

"Do not play dumb, Thor! This is exactly what it appears to be, do not try to convince yourself otherwise!" Loki snaps. A hot flush is touching his cheekbones, and he covers himself with the cloak. Thor is doing much the same with his blankets. They both know the other is aroused, but they still feel it a necessity to act as though they aren't.

"I... I..." Thor struggles for words, and his face turns the shade of his cape. "Would you have me for a fool, brother?"

"I would, as that is what you _are_!" The younger man spits the words like they're a poison he needs to get out of his system. Ignoring the crestfallen look on Thor's face, he turns his chin up and moves to leave.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"Back to my chambers. I do not wish to be here a moment longer. Run to father and speak of my crime. Denounce me before the whole of Asgard, lock me away, feed me to a vicious creature. I care not what you do, just allow me the pleasure of a final night to myself."

Before Loki can even take one step, Thor has an unbreakable grasp on his wrist. There's a mix of conviction and determination burning in his eyes. The gears in his head are turning so fast Loki things they might light aflame.

"You will be punished for what you have done, Loki. I will speak of this to no one and neither will you. But do not fool yourself into thinking this will be easier because I have taken the matter into my own hands. You are to stay here with me until I allow you to leave."

"Then what will you do to me, Thor? Bind me in chains at the foot of your bed? Have me as a slave?" Loki scoffs, as if the idea of Thor even considering doing something other than merely tattling is completely out of his grasp of comprehension. He yanks his wrist from the other man's grasp and starts for the door yet again.

"Loki, wait! Please!"

His hand rests on the door. Of course Thor would cut him off so close to leaving. Eyes closed and sighing, he asks, "What could you possibly want?"

"I've not come yet."

Those four words hit Loki like a wild horse. He whirls around, expecting to find the man still sitting on the bed, but Thor is gone. He reappears a moment later, this time pushing the younger man against the doors.

"Do not taunt me, Thor, I will have none of this," Loki spits. He attempts to shove his brother off of him, but his physical strength lacks considerably in comparison to Thor's. "I can understand if you despise me for this, but please, just allow me the final pleasure of leaving."

And much to his surprise, Thor laughs.

And as if it's his goal to surprise the younger man further, he presses his lips to Loki's.

Loki is too shocked to even consider returning the gesture. His eyes are wide with shock, and his body is tense. Thor is looking right at him, not asking if the whole ordeal is okay, but memorizing the look on his brother's face. It's not every day that Loki is caught so wholly off-guard, after all.

When the kiss is broken, Loki gasps for air and splutters, pushing Thor away from him. "Brother, what is the meaning of this? Do you think-"

"I think you need to cease acting as if you do not enjoy this." The voice is husky and dangerous, and Loki can only wonder if this is a dream. Everything is too unreal; he had steeled himself for the day he'd be found out when he first began to use his glamour, but of all the possibilities he had imagined - banishment, public humiliation, anything and everything unpleasant - this is the one thing he seems to have overlooked.

And this is how, moments later, Thor is pressed against the doors and Loki has discarded any items of clothing that may have lingered between them.

He works one hand between them with precision, and Loki is faintly aware of the thud and groan that signals Thor has dropped his head against the heavy doors.

That hand grasps Thor's cock and strokes it quickly. Loki bites down on the other man's neck as he works, more to mask the sound of his own gasps than anything else.

One of the older man's arms snakes around Loki's back and buries into his hair. They kiss once again, if one could really call it that; in reality, they merely bite at one another's lips and exchange their used air.

Loki is a bit hazy, his perception of time a bit off. It feels like it only takes a few minutes for Thor to come in between their stomachs, groaning something senseless, but it could have very well been longer than that.

He attempts to kiss Thor's neck as a gentle reminder that he, too, is more than aroused by their situation. But the older man frees himself from Loki's hold and pecks him on the forehead.

"Goodnight, brother."

Loki hardly contains his noise of discontent. "But Thor, I-"

"You were informed that you'd be punished, yes?" Thor asks rhetorically. He's turned to look at the normally composed man before him with amusement twinkling in his eyes. "This is your punishment, Loki. Return to your chambers. I'll not lay a hand on you tonight."

"If that is what you wish, so be it," Loki says quietly, but it's obvious by the way his body has tensed that he's furious inside. He turns to leave.

"Brother, wait."

Loki pauses with his hand on the door. He doesn't turn to look at Thor, but he knows that's the most he'll get; his brother is upset, and it's a miracle that he's even offering him a chance to speak.

"You'll return here tomorrow night, yes?" he asks.

"For what purpose? For this punishment - this... _humiliation_ to continue?"

"I merely ask to speak with you. What happens after that will be decided by you," the Thunderer promises. It is an offer that he hopes will spark Loki's curiosity just that final bit.

After a long pause devoted to careful deliberation, Loki responds, "Fine. I will be here tomorrow at this time."

"Thank you," Thor grins, unable to help himself.

"Goodnight, Thor."

And just like that, Loki is gone.


	3. Three

The following day passes by ever so slowly for Loki. He spends it entirely in his chambers, opting to read in one of his oversized armchairs rather than under a tree at the edge of the training grounds, as is his usual fashion. He takes his meals in his room, and although such a thing is not unusual, he knows that his presence will be especially noted by one person. However, he does not want to see Thor until absolutely necessary.

Loki holds a book in his hands, but he finds that his mind wanders, always back to the impending encounter with his brother. He will admit to no one but himself that he's nervous. More nervous than he's ever been before, in fact. The outcome of this night will impact the rest of his - and Thor's - lives.

He has the option of not seeing Thor tonight. He can remain in his chamber, and both men will ignore the metaphorical elephant in the room whenever they're together in the future. They can grow apart, and both will suffer. Loki can see his love transform into bitter hatred until he cannot remain in a room with Thor without engaging in malicious trickery.

So, he supposes, he'll go to his brother's chambers. After all, this is a problem he has to face head-on. No deceptions will do this for him.

And this logic is what brings him to knock softly on Thor's chamber doors at precisely the same time he had done the night. He doesn't wait for a response and lets himself in.

Thor is in the middle of the room, and it's obvious that he's been pacing. When he sees Loki, his face calms, then creases with worry in a matter of seconds.

"Brother," he sighs. "You were scarce today. I was worried you'd not come."

"Your worrying is pointless. This is my problem as well as yours. I cannot simply leave it for you alone to deal with," Loki says. He walks past his brother and sits at the foot of Thor's bed, curling his legs beneath him. His heart thumps faster than usual, but he looks at the blonde man behind him with resolve. "You wish to speak to me. Come, sit, and let us put this matter behind us, yes?"

Thor hesitates momentarily, but he sits down on the opposite corner of the bed. He leans back against the headboard, then sits upright, looking uncomfortable in every position, despite the fact that the bed is so large that they could both comfortably sprawl out with several feet of space between them. It's ironic to think that, just the night before, they had shared this bed, and now they're acting as though they're two awkward teenagers.

Loki clears away all unnecessary thoughts and puts the relevant ones in order while Thor comes back down to earth. He asks, "Well, brother? What would you have us discuss?"

"I would... er... " Thor blinks and glances away, and it dawns on the trickster that, oh gods, he intends to discuss their _feelings_ , and now all Loki wants to do is run for his chambers. Thor clears his throat. "Perhaps you would inform me of your motives for your... magic?"

"It was trickery, Thor. I was playing one of my infamous pranks." Loki is lying through his teeth, but he says the words with just enough sarcastic vindication that they both know it.

"A prank? You spent months drawing out visits for a prank? And that is why you stayed to finish me last night, why you chose to come here tonight?" Thor asks rhetorically, sounding very self-assured. "I may be a fool when compared to you, brother, I will not deny that. But I am not as dense as you would portray me! I know you well enough to realize that, had this been a prank, you would have changed back into your true form on the first night after making me look foolish. You would have arranged for an audience. So why then, Loki, do you insist on acting as though you meant nothing by this action, when you do nothing without prior meditation on the subject?"

By the time the Thunderer is finished with his rant, his chest is heaving as though he's just ended a sparring match. He stares at Loki with such intensity that, for once in his life, Loki is left speechless.

"Brother, I-" he begins with a dismissive laugh, but he is cut off immediately.

"Do not dare spin your lies to me! You have come here tonight - what outcome you seek, I know not - but I will not accept such fallacies, not now. I want the truth, not a contrived Silvertongue tale!"

Loki is taken aback. Thor is serious, and it is very obvious he's taken control of the situation. He allows his brother a chance to catch his breath before he begins (and with the truth, this time; it's obvious Thor will hold him captive until he is honest).

"It began as a prank - do not interrupt me, Odinson! Hear me to the end. It was a prank spawned of jealousy and confusion, and of my own selfish desires. I wanted to shame you, if not before all of Asgard, then I would do so in your chambers, with just you and I as witnesses. I decided on something that could incriminate both you and I, but I did not care. I was jealous of you, the golden child and perfect son. Anything to bring such glory to its knees before me."

Loki doesn't realize that Thor has moved until he places a tentative hand over one of the black haired man's. Thor looks somewhat dejected, like a kicked puppy, but prompts, "You also spoke of confusion," as if he does not want Loki to pain himself further with the bitter topic of jealousy.

"Yes, of course. The confusion, well... Thor, you _are_ the golden child, the one that all of Asgard cherishes and adores. And I want to hate you for it. I want to despise you, and I cannot." The black haired man pauses, glancing at a spot on the floor. He adds, quietly, almost to himself, "Quite the contrary, actually."

"And what of selfishness?" Thor asks. His voice has receded to a mere hoarse whisper. The information being given to him is a lot to soak up and interpret.

"Oh, you can put two and two together, Thor. I chose to go about my so-called revenge in a way that would indulge my sickest fantasies. You lived the rest of my story." Loki waves away the statement with a dismissive hand. He looks sullenly at the floor. "And here we have come."

Silence embraces them as they are each overcome by their own private thoughts. Loki cannot read into the thoughtful, pondering look on Thor's face and does not try to; he is consumed by his own wretched vulnerability. He has not spoken of all his mental anguishes, but he has bared enough of his belly to reveal things about himself he never wanted to. This prompts him to ask, "Well, Thor? Are you going to speak your piece, or was this confession naught but for amusement?"

"I am not that heartless, Loki," Thor murmurs, but he does not speak any further. He still looks as though he's lost in a world of thought. Loki thinks that this is perhaps the first time he's seen Thor struggle so heartily with a matter of the mind by his own free will. He places a tentative hand on his brother's cheek, but Thor brushes him away. "Allow me to collect my thoughts, brother. I mean to find the proper words."

A few moments pass, and then Thor turns to Loki. "I apologize for the jealousy you feel, brother; I did not know how you are affected by your treatment. But do not think for one moment that you are inadequate. You could challenge me - or anyone in all of Asgard, for that matter - to a battle of wits or magic or appearance, and you would come out as the victor. You are the one fit to be a kind, not I, and I will treat you as such, even if no one else will. I was not comfortable speaking these words before, but I am fully confident in them now, and I hope you realize my sincerity." He pauses, looking thoroughly self-assured at finally speaking the words that have floated around his mind in disjointed thoughts and feelings for so long. He places a hand on Loki's cheek. "I cannot wield words like you, brother. I do not know how to adequately tell you how I feel. I do not think there are enough words for such a thing." The words are spoken apologetically.

"Oh Thor, you fool," Loki sighs, smiling. "You need not speak when you can simply show me."

So there it is. The confession Thor so craves to hear and Loki so craves to announce, spoken in his familiar, roundabout way and enforced by the kiss Thor leans forward to press on the other mans mouth.

It escalates quickly. A simple, gentle touch of lips turns into a more passionate exchange of battling tongues. Loki pushes all thoughts from his mind, and Thor ignores his niggling instincts. They have accepted their fates as something more than brothers, something that steps into the world of the taboo from that of innocence and denial. There will be repercussions for this action that they'll have to deal with, but for now, they'll leave those issues to be dealt with by the wisdom of their future selves. For now, they will celebrate.

Thor wraps an arm around Loki's waist and pulls the smaller man to sit atop his lap. Loki presses their bodies close, massages the nape of his brother's neck, and relishes the beauty of the moment.

They kiss for a long time, merely exploring one another's mouths. It's both intimate and playful. Hips rut together and gaps are let out at the sensation. Their hands explore the previously forbidden territory that is the other man's body. Loki has never taken a lover like this. The kisses warm him inside in a way he has never felt before. His previous forays into Thor's chambers had been controlled, and he'd never been able to completely let go. Not like tonight. It seems like an eternity before they even break for air.

"This is forbidden." Thor's chest heaves for breath, but Loki never breaks eye contact.

"I know."

"We will have to hide. Asgard would not be tolerant."

"I know, and I do not care."

"That is easy to say now, but-"

"Thor, I am not as loved as you are here. I will not be bothered if they find out and shun me, but I will never tell them. It is different for you, Thor. Can you become indifferent to their opinions?"

"I am indifferent. Their opinions pale in comparison to you."

The answer is enough to satiate them. Thor brings their lips together once more, laying down and pulling Loki on top of him. They continue to kiss as though they've never done it before, and ever trailing finger and gentle caress is so _wrong_ but so, so _right_ that they feel liberated in their union.

Thor slips a hand up Loki's shirt and pulls the fabric off. They're both donning their comfortable nightclothes, making each article that much easier to remove. In the moments it takes to catch their breath, Thor strips off his own shirt and changes places with Loki.

Before anything else, they find each others mouths again. This time it's more intimate, as they nip at lips and tongues. When Thor rakes his teeth over his brother's bottom lip and pulls it into his mouth to suck on it gently, Loki gasps, and he's completely unable to control his unconscious thrusting of his hips and tightening of his fingers on the skin of Thor's back.

Thor chuckles as he buries his face in Loki's neck. "I've never seen you so excitable, brother. I'd think you've not been with another before me."

"Stop talking about such things; your mouth could be put to better uses," Loki commands breathlessly. He digs his fingers into Thor's hair. The Thunderer looks up at him, borrowing the man's mischievous grin. Then he bites down on the smaller man's neck and sucks. Loki cries out, "Only you! It's only ever been you!"

Thor grins to himself and trails his kisses down Loki's chest. The gentle touch of his lips makes the black haired man shiver with anticipation. When he reaches the top of his brother's pants, he stops.

"Are you sure you would like to continue?" he asks. He does not want to make Loki feel like he has to do anything to prove himself.

"Would I still remain here if I did not? Would I have come to you so many nights before?" Loki's voice is breathless but still commanding. He is not in the mood to be teased.

The pants are discarded quickly, and Thor grabs his brother to take him in his mouth. Loki's hand pulling on his hair stops him.

"Thor, no," he pleads. He looks completely given over to pleasure: messy hair, blown-out pupils, heaving chest. "I do not... I do not think I can last."

"Of course, brother," Thor chuckles. Loki looks about ready to lose himself completely. Thus, Thor pulls off his own pants and kisses his brother once more before warning, "Are you still sure you'd like to continue? It will be painful, but I will do my best not to hurt you. Do you trust me?"

"I trust you," Loki gasps, nodding as if to affirm it to himself. Thor dips his fingers into the oil he has sitting on his bedside table ('just in case'). "I do trust you, Thor, I-" Thor inserts one finger into Loki, who promptly chokes out a half-strangled, half-gasped " _Oh._ "

He shifts against the finger as the awkward feeling begins to subside. It is only uncomfortable thus far, not painful.

After a few moments of fucking him with one finger, Thor presses in a second. This one is accompanied by a shock of stinging pain that shoots up his spine and dissipates quickly. Loki gasps out.

"Are you all right?" Thor asks. Loki nods in the affirmative, and the fingers begin a careful, scissoring motion. The black haired man grabs Thor's hand and guides it in deeper and closer to that one spot that makes him melt. "I thought you said you were inexperienced, brother."

"Personal practice. But your fingers are much larger than _mine_." The last word is spat out in a moan, as he guided Thor's fingers to the proper spot. "Oh, right there, right there!"

Thor silently praises Loki's practice, as he knows he wouldn't have been able to find the smaller man's prostate without the help.

He pushes one more finger inside, careful to gauge Loki's reaction by the hiss he lets out. But within seconds, he's drumming at the man's prostate again, and Loki is murmuring things that neither man can decipher.

"Brother, please," Loki pants, and it's obvious to both men what he desires.

"Are you positive? I do not wish to hurt-"

" _Now_ , Thor, or so help me..." He can't think of a proper threat, perplexed by Thor's grin as he reaches for more oil. The moment almost feels too surreal; this is something he's only ever dreamed of. Had he voiced his opinion, Thor would have heartily agreed.

After coating himself with a generous helping of oil, Thor presses himself into Loki. The black haired man lets out a breathy gasp at the feeling, ignoring the burn that settles at his tailbone.

"Am I paining you?" Thor asks, worry set deep in his face.

"No, just... please."

The blonde smiles as he slowly buries himself to the hilt and kisses Loki. Their foreheads press together, and Thor rests one hand on the small of his brother's back; gazing into each others eyes, they are captured by the intimacy of the moment.

Loki wraps his legs around Thor's waist and hooks them together at the ankles. They stay in this position for a while, merely breathing one another's used air and dedicating the moment to memory.

They make love with slow, purposeful thrusts. The kisses never stop and are only broken by their gasps and exclamations of pleasure. Hands roam over skin, memorizing the planes of one another's bodies. It is the most intimate thing they've ever experienced or witnessed.

Loki trails his fingers down the Thunderer's back, gasping curses and various unintelligible phrases. He is too consumed to craft his words with the usual precision, but his tongue is still hard at work. Thor merely grins and kisses him, swallowing his little declarations, as beautiful as they are.

The pace remains slow, but Loki is still shaking with every thrust against his prostate. Their bodies are pressed so tightly together that every action creates delicious friction against Loki's manhood

"Brother, I am..." The trickster's words are choked off in a moan as Thor sucks on the skin of his neck. Everyone will know Loki has been bedded. He shudders and cradles the back of Thor's head in his hands.

"Come for me, Loki." The blonde's voice is naught but a mere guttural growl rumbling from the depths of his chest. He reaches a hand between them and adds that extra bit of pressure that sends the man over the edge, crying out Thor's name for the world to hear.

Thor continues fucking into Loki, and his own orgasm grips him like none he has felt before. He bites down on his brother's neck to stifle his cries and rides out the feelings of bliss surging through him.

He drops to his forearms with his head still buried in Loki's neck, breathing in the smell of sex and sweat that permeates his skin. He remains there for a few long moments before Loki shoves him over, grunting, "Get off me, you sweaty oaf."

The Thunderer chuckles breathlessly as he rolls onto his back next to the younger man. He can't help but notice how beautiful Loki is when the man turns to face him. His cheeks are flushed, his pupils dilated and full of mischief, his hair messy and splayed out on the pillow below him. And he has claimed this glorious god.

"What now?" Thor asks, and although the question can be taken in many ways, it's obvious to both men what the implication of the question is.

"We must tell no one," Loki says seriously. "And you'd best not make such a spectacle of my neck next time, brother."

The blonde grins widely and asks, "So there will be a next time?"

Loki purses his lips when he realizes that he's allowed more of himself to escape with that simple sentence than he intended. So he counters with, "Well, you have been pining away for so long, I did not think you would allow me to escape your grasp so easily."

"You are correct," Thor grins. But the expression doesn't stay long, as Loki throws back the covers and begins to stand. He reaches out to grasp the black-haired man's wrist before he can go anywhere and asks, "What are you doing?"

"What? Would you have me spend the night?" Loki scoffs, as though the thought is completely unimaginable. In reality, he does not want to come off as too needy. He doesn't want to mar his own pride by making any other assumptions.

"Indeed. Would you?"

Loki looks down at Thor, at the pleading eyes, and he finds himself responding by crawling under the covers with his brother once more. He faces away from Thor, but the blonde throws his arm over Loki's hip and drags himself closer so that his chest rests against Loki's back.

"Thank you," he whispers happily into Loki's still sweat damp hair.

"Do not thank me," he responds, curling his fingers around Thor's larger ones. He can feel Thor smile against the top of his head. "But if you snore, I cannot guarantee you won't end up on the floor."

Thor has a hearty laugh at this. "I can make no promises."

They drift into a deep, exhausted sleep after their fretful rest and worries of the prior day. 

There will be consequences for their actions, of course. But for now, this is more than either could ask for. And the smiles that do not fade, even in their slumber, are a testament to that.


End file.
